Not Who You Say You Are
by MizJoely
Summary: Star Trek Into Darkness-Sherlock crossover featuring Molly Hooper and Khan. A heated confrontation becomes even more heated once the phaser is taken out of the equation. PWP. Original prompt by MollyMatters on tumblr, thanks for the inspiration! Coverart beautifully supplied by Sempaiko, by commission.


_A/N: Revised to fix some oopsies I spotted, and to add some oral action!_

* * *

"Who are you?"

He hid a smile as he straightened and turned to face her, the petite Starfleet yeoman, dressed in a blue Starship uniform and holding a phaser pointed at him. He could overpower her, slap the weapon out of her hand, dodging the blasts as he went, or even absorb a few stun shots, but he remained still, hands loose by his side as he studied her.

Admiral Marcus' yeoman, Molly Hooper, studied John Harrison right back, her breathing heavy and uneven, but her hands steady on the phaser. She'd passed her weapon's training, not at the head or her class, but certainly far from the bottom. She'd had no idea why the Admiral had wanted her to go undercover on the Enterprise (wouldn't a trained operative be best?), but she'd agreed and then did what she did best: research.

Research that only led to more questions, rather than answering them. Research that led to this very room, this very man, Commander John Harrison, one of Admiral Marcus' best kept secrets.

The only problem was, Commander John Harrison had only existed in Starfleet and civilian records for the last year. Before that, nothing.

She'd risked a lot, ferreting out this bolthole the man had set up, and risked even more, she knew, by not saying anything to anyone before coming here. But if she was wrong, if John Harrison's past was deliberately obscure and overwritten for some important reason, she didn't want to risk blowing his cover or interfering with whatever operation he and the Admiral had set up.

So she waited, keeping the phaser trained on the target. John, or whoever he was, was still looking at her with an unnerving and slightly arousing intensity in those blue-green eyes of his. She licked her lip nervously, then silently cursed herself as she saw those eyes flicker and focus on her mouth. A slight smile curved his own lips, those luscious cupid's bow lips she'd admired the few times the two of them had come face-to-face in the past, and she felt her already pounding heart racing.

"Who do you think I am, Yeoman Hooper?" he asked, breaking the silence as well as the stand-off, appearing completely unaffected by her weapon. Fine, good, let him underestimate both her skill and her determination; she knew damn well she would shoot him if she felt the least bit threatened, then use her communicator and call Starfleet Security and let the consequences fall where they may.

"Not who you say you are," she answered him, feeling proud of herself for having an action-vid-worthy comeback.

He shrugged and looked bored, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back against the desk he'd been hunched over when she entered the room. "None of us are entirely who we say we are, are we, Yeoman," he replied, flicking his eyes over her form in a pointed – and, if she wasn't imagining it, interested – manner. "You, for example, are Admiral Marcus' yeoman, his PA, as it were, and yet you appear before me today in a rather fetching Starship uniform – medical blue, when your background is supposedly entirely in administration. If you are being legitimately assigned to a Starship, temporarily or otherwise, you would be in red or possibly command gold, not blue. Therefore your background includes something in the field of medicine or else you would never be able to fool anyone for even the shortest amount of time, not and retain your cover." He pursed his lips and studied her further, eyes lighting up and lips curling in a triumphant smile as he said, "Forensic pathology."

Molly gaped at him, forgetting for the moment why she was there. How had he deduced her so accurately? Had he simply read her records, even though they were sealed behind encoded files just as his had been? However, hers were kept away from the public eye at Admiral Marcus' request, because he liked to have people working for him with multiple abilities and not all of them known to the world at large.

But then, if she could hack into 'John Harrison's' private files, then obviously so could he do the same to her. "No, Yeoman," he said before she could say anything, his voice impossibly deeper and smoother than it had been only a second earlier. His eyes seemed to bore into her very soul as he took a single step away from the desk, arms once again loosely held by his sides. "I had no reason to look into your past before today, as your identity seemed entirely transparent to me before now."

She wanted to ask him how he knew, then, but refrained, belatedly remembering that she was the one supposedly interrogating him. She swung the phaser up (when had she allowed it to drop?) until it was once again aimed at his midsection. "Don't come any closer," she warned him.

He smiled, a slow, seductive curl of the lips that seemed to burn right to her core. "Or what, Yeoman Hooper?"

"Or I'll shoot," she replied, silently cursing herself for sounding far less certain than she should have.

He took a second step, then stopped as she shook her head. "Don't," she warned him shakily. Oh, great, now she sounded nervous instead of just uncertain. He would never believe she would shoot him; there was only one way to prove she meant it.

The deep breath she took gave it away, as well as the flicker in her eyes and the way she bit her lower lip. Khan easily dodged the shot, ducked to the floor, rolled, and was standing directly in front of her in one fluid movement. Before she could do more than gape at him in shock, he knocked the phaser from her hand and pulled her close to his body for a scorching kiss.

_Molly, what the HELL do you think you're doing?_ Her mind was screaming at her as her hands reached up and dug into John's – whoever the hell he was – hair, tugging at the dark locks as he pressed her up against the wall. His knee was between her thighs and she could feel the hard length of him through the simple black uniform he wore. He reached down and tugged her right thigh up against his leg, his large hand and long, sensuous fingers sliding easily beneath her uniform skirt to cradle her bum. She whimpered as she felt him press himself even more tightly against her, and knew the dampness between her legs must be screamingly obvious.

She whimpered again as he slid his tongue into her mouth, his other hand moving to cradle her head. God, his hands were enormous, so large he could practically touch both her ears with one hand if he wanted to…

With that thought, Molly finally gave into the inevitable, that it wasn't her ears she wanted him to touch. She'd been drawn to him from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him and now, being so close to him, feeling his mouth and hands and body on hers, all she could think was how much she wanted him, wanted there to be nothing between them but air…and as little of that as possible.

Khan smirked as he felt the very moment of Molly Hooper's surrender to him. She'd come here to discover the truth about who he was, and instead had discovered her own truth – she wanted him. Badly.

He hadn't planned on seducing her, had initially dismissed her as boring and ordinary, like so many people, but her presence here had surprised him – a very unexpected, very pleasant surprise, just like his own sudden arousal. He'd only meant to startle her, disarm her and then knock her unconscious so he could have a few minutes privacy in which to decide what do about her – this bolthole was supposedly unknown to everyone on Marcus' staff, including the cursed Admiral himself – but instead, he'd kissed her. And now she was quite happily – and rather expertly – kissing him back, the phaser lying on the floor, forgotten while he fondled her bum and ground against her.

The wall suddenly wouldn't do, even though he could easily picture himself hoisting her up, ripping off her knickers and plunging into her right then and there. The clasp to his trousers was easily undone as well, but he wanted to be lying over her when he fucked her, watching her face the entire time as he found all the spots that made her wail and beg and cry out his name…

His name. He didn't want to hear her calling him by the false identity Marcus had created for him; he wanted to hear her calling out his _real_ name, the name he'd had for over 300 years now. The name that was so much more than a name, more than the title he'd so arrogantly taken for himself before his empire had fallen and he and his loyal followers had been forced to flee, seeking a different life far from Earth and its masses of stupid, willfully self-destructive human _sheep_.

The Earth of now and the Earth of then, for all the technological advances, weren't so very different. People still used people, still manipulated others for their own gain…and some, some very few, still had some sort of integrity to them. Like the woman he was currently hoisting into his arms as he carried her over to his rarely used bed, lying her on the worn blue coverlet so he could pull her boots from her feet and toss them to fall where they might on the floor behind him. The woman who had come here on her own initiative – he knew Marcus hadn't sent her – to discover his identity, not out of simple curiosity or for some sort of personal gain, but because she was worried (rightly, of course) that he posed some sort of threat. She was transparently easy to read, now that he bothered to do so, and there were many aspects of her that he could admire, but at this moment in time, the only part he was interested in was the body she was so eagerly revealing to him.

Molly could hardly believe she was doing this, stripping down to nothing and panting after a man she'd, until recently, barely spoken less than a half dozen words to…a man whose identity was still a question mark, no matter that he worked for her boss and Starfleet. It was likely the answer was something as simple as him being a member of the clandestine Section 31 (which she was NOT supposed to know about), but it could be as complicated as him being a planted enemy agent of some kind.

She should be more concerned about the answer to that puzzle, the way she had been when she first came here, but such concerns felt so very, very far away right now, while she was watching, open-mouthed, as he peeled away the tight black shirt and trousers that turned out to be all he was actually wearing once he'd discarded his boots and socks. Every long, lean, luscious inch of him was exposed to her view now, his body pale as sculpted marble, a light sprinkling of gingery hair on his chest and clustered around his erection. Which, she saw as her mouth started to water, was every bit as long and thick as it had felt through their mutual layers of clothing.

She wasted no time in going after what she wanted; John's knees had barely hit the bed before her hands were on his cock and her mouth was hovering above it. She stuck out her tongue and licked a deliberate line down its length before lowering her mouth to take in as much of it as she could. She heard John give a stifled gasp and felt his hands tugging at her hair, freeing it from the severe ponytail that was her usual work style. As the tresses fell free, she felt him pulling the hair away from her face, wrapping it in one fist and lightly tugging at her. She allowed the restraint and the direction he was clearly giving her, delighting in the fact that he was as eager as she was to get on with things.

In the back of her mind she knew she was being foolhardy, taking unnecessary risks, and that this was not going to end with the two of them declaring their undying love for one another; in fact, chances were it would end up with her being held hostage or, at best, knocked unconscious and left to make her way back to Starfleet HQ while he vanished to another bolthole, one she hadn't discovered.

Right now, however, she couldn't make herself care. He was rutting into her mouth, and she was holding onto to that tight little bum, digging her fingers into the pale flesh as they moaned in tandem. Then he was pulling away, shoving her back so that she collapsed once more on the bed, kneeling over her, kissing her with urgent passion, his tongue claiming her mouth with a surety and arrogance that only raised her arousal levels. She felt his fingers delving between her legs, probing at her core, and moaned again as first one, then two, then a third slipped deep inside her, working her into a frenzy of lust.

Molly kissed like a storm, unrestrained, passionately, and Khan relished the feel of her tongue stroking his…just as he'd relished the feel of that sweet little mouth on his cock earlier. It had been far too long since he'd given into his body's demands, at least with another person, and having someone touch him besides himself was proving to be a dangerously delightful distraction.

Giving in to his need to taste all of her, he lowered his head to her throat, sucking lightly at her pulse point and reveling in the feel of her fingers running through his hair. She moaned and gasped as he made his way down to her breasts, suckling each pink nipple thoroughly, nipping at the turgid flesh and pinching and kneading them until she was writhing and squealing in pleasure.

He pulled himself away from her breasts reluctantly, but there was more of her sweet flesh to explore and taste; he licked his way down her abdomen, and she gasped with pleasure as he dove between her legs and pressed his mouth to the hot wetness of her sex.

Molly gasped and keened as he worked her with his tongue, moaning wantonly at the feel of his thumbs softly pressing her lower lips apart, a single finger brushing over her clit. She was on the verge of climaxing when he slowed his motions, and she groaned in frustration, eliciting a warm chuckle from John's throat. "Patience, Molly," he growled against her flesh, sending shivers of desire across her overheated form. "All good things come to those who wait." Then he placed his lips over her clit and pressed two fingers deep inside her at the same time, and she nearly levitated off the bed as her orgasm crested, pulling cry after cry of ecstasy from her throat.

Khan smiled triumphantly as he felt Molly's interior muscles pulsing against his fingers, and pulled himself away from her just long enough for the aftershocks to pass. He had no idea what he was going to do with her after he'd finished ravishing every inch of her sweet body, but that could wait till the morning. With the taste of her musky and sticky on his lips, with her small, perfectly formed breasts waiting for more of his attention, with the way she responded so enthusiastically to his mouth and fingers on her cunt, nothing else could possibly be more important.

He couldn't wait to plunge inside her, to feel those taut muscles caressing his cock. When her eyes were no longer glazed with pleasure and turned inward, he removed his mouth from the breast it was currently suckling – eliciting a disappointed mewl from her throat – and pressed his lips to her ear. "So, Molly Hooper," he growled, lifting her left leg and holding it over his arm, "Shall we begin?"

Then he plunged deep inside her, thrusting quickly, secure in the knowledge that he'd opened her up enough to take him in, and heard her gasping and moaning his false name as her hands dug into his shoulders.

"Not John," he growled, nipping at her earlobe. "Call me Khan, Molly. Say it," he added, a demand he emphasized by pulling nearly all the way out of her and then thrusting back inside in one sharp move. "Say my name."

"Khan," she gasped out obediently. "Khan, yes, please, fuck me harder, feels so good." Her voice trailed off into inarticulate moans as he increased his frantic pace above her. It felt good, being inside her like this, feeling the tug of her vaginal muscles, the slick wetness he'd caused, but it felt just as good hearing his true name spoken for the first time since Marcus had forced this false identity on him.

He came quicker than normal, a combination of his year-long (and three-hundred-year long before that) voluntary abstinence. Molly, however, was coming with him, and he exulted at the sound of her high-pitched shrieks as they reverberated along with his deeper, hoarse cries. Her name was in there, and a few curse words and even some cries to the deity he'd long since ceased to believe in, all jumbled together and pouring from his lips even as his seed poured into her womb.

He collapsed on top of her, taking care not to fully crush her beneath his larger, heavier form, and felt her arms holding tightly to him, her lips pressing feverish kisses to the side of his face until he turned to capture her lips with his own.

His last thought before they fell into slumber was an exultant, possessive, _MINE_.


End file.
